


The Touch of Shadows

by MissTantabis



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell & Related Fandoms, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Oneshot, Thriller, dark childermass, dark!childermass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-28 12:07:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8445253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissTantabis/pseuds/MissTantabis
Summary: When Mr. Segundus returns from the Miracle of York, he is followed by John Childermass. Meeting in a dark alley, John discovers a dark and twisted secret, Childermass is so generous to 'share' with him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I personally have never written an oneshot with these two, so one can view it as an experiment.

The statures of the Minister of York slowly froze back into place. The stones groaned and snapped as they rearranged themselves to take upon the form they were used to. The Minister was almost empty now. Most members of the Society of York had fled the spectacle as soon as the first gargoyles had come to life, hissing and growling.

Now only three figures stood in the wide hall. A young man with a smooth, handsome face and brown hair was holding his lantern and stared at the statures in fascination as they froze. His long, black cloak danced around his slender legs and the breath curled in the cold place’s air.

Mr. Segundus turned to Mr. Honeyfooth, who stood besides him. An old, small, round man with grey hair and an almost bald head. A bright smile was on his face. “He...he brought them alive”, the young man stammered, “Did you see it, Mr. Honeyfooth? Mr. Norrell just brought about a dozen stone statures alive and made them talk and move!” “I saw it, Mr. Segundus, I saw it.” Mr. Honeyfooth’s fascination was not as open as his colleagues, but his voice was hoarse with emotion. “It truly was a miracle.”

“It was indeed.” Mr. Segundus nodded in agreement. He and Mr. Honeyfooth turned their heads towards the only person left in the cathedral. He had not said a word. The man was standing by the pillars, leaning against them. He was cloaked in dark clothing, a cylinder deep in his face and gloves on his hands. His black hair hang in ragged curls and strands around his face, the dark eyes glittered.

John Childermass, Mr. Norrell’s man of business, carefully placed a neatly folded contract into the depths of his cloak. Its paper gleamed briefly in the darkness of the room. This contract had broken an entire society apart. In just one night. Mr. Segundus thoughtfully licked his lips as he watched Childermass pull himself off the wall and walk away, towards the cathedral’s exit. He probably was about to report to Mr. Norrell, seeing that his duty was done here.

Mr. Honeyfooth laid a hand on Segundus’ shoulder. “We should probably go too, Mr. Segundus”, he mused, “There is no reason to dilly dally here any longer.” John nodded towards his friend. He placed his triangular, black hat on his brown hair. “Yes, of course, Mr. Honeyfooth.” They stepped out of the cathedral to go their separate ways. “Good night, Mr. Segundus”, murmured Honeyfooth, before he disappeared in the snowy night. “Good night, Mr. Honeyfooth.”

Segundus pushed the collar of his cloak up to protect himself against the wind. He hurried downstairs and made his way through York’s streets. Narrow and crooked streets, that were framed by half-timbered houses. The wind howled quietly and blew snow against Segundus’ cloak as he strolled towards his destination, head down and in thought.

But as he walked, he thought he could hear steps and saw a figure move in the shadows. Was he being followed? Segundus caught himself turning around and looking over his shoulder every now and then. He cursed himself for having extinguished the lantern’s light at the cathedral and leaving it there. Although the lanterns in the streets should shed enough light.

The scream happened so fast and ended so abruptly that it made Segundus freeze. Had he really heard this blood curling sound? That scream of someone in fright? Which then had been extinguished like a candle? His heart pumped louder in his chest and he clawed his hand in the collar of his cloak.

_ Breath, John, breath. _ Segundus stopped in his tracks, uncertain what to do. Thousands of scenarios raced through his mind, one worse then the next. The scream had happened a few streets before him. Thus there was no surprise it had startled him. Should he take another road home? Should he check? Maybe whoever had screamed was still alive and needed help.

His shoes were muffled by the fresh snow on the street. Still Segundus did his best to step as light as possible. He tiptoed towards the next square. Peeking around a house, his hand covered his mouth as he tried to avoid screaming.

There on the snow before him laid the chief of his former Society. His face was already freezing in the mask of death, teeth bared and eyes wide in shock. He was laying on his side, his stomach faced Segundus. Thus the young man could clearly see the cut. The wound was just underneath the ribcage. It was deep and the red liquid dropped on the snow, fresh and beautiful, but oh so horrifying at the same time.

_ Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! _ What probably would have been a shrill, girl-like scream of terror turned into a whimpering sound. Segundus backed away from the crime scene. He had never seen a dead body before let alone a murdered one. His vision swam and his stomach turned over. For a brief moment John feared he would vomit right here, in the snow.

He could not stay here. He did not even know what to do. Call that someone had been murdered. But it was in the middle of the night. Who would hear him? Except the murderer… The idea made his blood leave his cheeks, making him even paler then the cold had already done so. No, that idea was foolish and reckless. No, no, no. The best thing to do was to leave as fast as possible and report the crime in the morning.

Segundus had been backing away. As he looked for an alternate route, he had entered a shadowy side alley without noticing. There suddenly was a move in this darkness, black on black, and the next thing John knew was a gloved hand pressed over his mouth. The next thing he could feel was a sharp, small object pressed against his ripe cage.

A warm gust of breath graced his ear and a raspy, hoarse voice whispered: “Try to do anything and you will bleed like a pig.” Segundus whimpered into the gloved palm and nodded rapidly, showing that he would play by his captor’s rules. All if he did not get killed.

Strong hands seized his shoulder and he got spun around. Hitting against the nearby wall, Segundus felt the air leave his lungs. His head spun for a brief moment and his vision swam. When it cleared again, he was face to face with the dark Yorkshireman, whose black eyes glowed sharply between the curls of black hair. A small, blood coated knife pointed at his Adam’s apple in an almost careless manner.

“I told you, we were to have a chat soon”, Childermass whispered. Segundus noticed the knife, the blood on it and immediately counted two and two together. His eyes widened and his breath quickened. His heart flapped in his chest like a trapped bird. “You killed the chief of my Society”, he stammered.

“Yes.” There was no remorse in Childermass’ voice, no guilt, not even sick pleasure or joy. He stated it as if this was just another part of his job. “I did.” Segundus called: “How could you?! If you get caught, you will be hanged. If Mr. Norrell finds this out, he could fire you. Or let you be thrown into the prison. Or killed.”

“Lower your voice”, hissed Childermass and the knife seemed to come just a tad bit closer. The Yorkshireman explained: “Mr. Norrell won’t let me be killed. He knows what I am doing. And he is perfectly fine with it. But this is not about me or Mr. Norrell. It is about you.”

Childermass lowered his voice: “Stop your search for magic or the attempt to practice it. It won’t end well for you.” “But why, Mr. Childermass?”, replied Segundus, “Magic is my life, Sir. I...I do not know what I would do without it. Besides, why should it be bad if I learn more?” The other one stated: “Have you never heard the statement not to mess with something you do not understand?!”

“Yes, Mr. Segundus” – there was a knowing smile on Childermass’ lips – “I saw the way you looked at me during your time at Hurtfew. I saw the glimmer in your eyes. The shiver in your being. I know that you felt it. And that you did not understand it. You were tempted to ask me. When you left Hurtfew, you turned around on the pathway and looked at me. Your lips were even partly open like the question wanted to slip through.”

“Go on then”, whispered Childermass as he leaned forwards, his breath mixing with Segundus’, “Ask me what burns so much in your mind. What you desire to know.” And John could not hold himself back. The words were bursting out of him: “The magic! It was on your skin. Thousands and thousands of shadows, dancing over your flesh, following your moves. What was that magic?” He looked into the other John’s eyes and felt like he saw into an abyss of darkness. Those were not the eyes of a normal human being. “ _What_ are you, Mr. Childermass?”

Childermass smirked a smug grin. It was as if he had known how this conversation would turn. He seemed to know every word that Mr. Segundus was about to say, before he said it. He read the other one like a book. It was uncanny. Tenderly and softly Childermass placed the knife against Segundus’ throat as if he was ready to cut.

“Tell anybody about what I am going to say now”, explained Childermass in his manner of fact way, “And I am going to find you, Mr. Segundus. I will find you and the person you told my secret to. And I will end you in a way that will make you regret it very bitterly.”

Segundus inhaled sharply. Despite the situation he was in, despite the clear threat against his life, he could find parts of his old fascination. He could see the shadows on Childermass’ skin even now. They were swirling over the white flesh, coiling on around it, glimmering and flickering like candles’ flames. They hid in the depth of Childermass’ clothing, leaked out of his eyes like ink tears and they seemed to whisper words he did not understand.

Childermass spoke slowly and calmly: “I am Mr. Norrell’s darkness. The best and the worst version of himself. Everything he hates, everything he fears, every bad thought he had and everything he wishes to be. I can tell where he is and how he feels at every second of the day. And I have no problems with murdering in his name. I am a shadow, his true self.”

Segundus gasped. “How is that possible?”, he asked. Childermass smiled and softly placed a finger on the other one’s lip. “A master never reveals his tricks and spells. No matter how close he is to his aim. I do believe, that this answered your question, Mr. Segundus. Remember: Try to learn more about magic and I will teach you how dark people can be in their hearts.”

Segundus shuddered and nodded. Before his eyes, Childermass melted back into the shadows and disappeared. The young man placed a hand on his throat. He gulped. Yes, his question had been answered. It was a terrifying answer, a horrible possibility. And yet, Segundus could not help but feel a prickling sensation when he knew he should be deadly afraid.

John thoughtfully ran over the stones with a hand. He looked around almost expecting to find Childermass again. But the wall was cold and damp and the shadows dark and with no whispers or touch at all.  _ Strange _ , Segundus thought as he stood there, scratching the back of his head,  _ It is as if he has never been here. _


	2. Coverimage




End file.
